


A Quick Stop Before Breakfast

by AnniGrace



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-06-16
Packaged: 2018-11-14 16:11:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11211558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnniGrace/pseuds/AnniGrace
Summary: Blah blah blah Nora says they never get married but...





	A Quick Stop Before Breakfast

**Author's Note:**

> 1) i am terrible at titles  
> 2) this is unedited and unbetaed  
> 3) this isn't my usual andreil wedding headcanon but i felt like doing something soft and sweet

Andrew loves this time of year. They have a month off before pre-season practice begins, and there are no demands on his time. He can sleep until noon. He can eat whatever he wants without someone harping on him about sugar and carbs and calories. He can go for long drives at high speeds whenever he wants.

Today, he’s got a sleepy Neil bundled into the passenger’s seat of the Maserati and is driving as fast as he can on the near-empty highway. It’s six in the morning, and rush hour hasn’t hit yet. The Maserati hugs the road around sharp curves, growling low and hungry around them.

From the driver's seat, Andrew eyes the redhead. His too-long hair is still damp from his post-run shower, drying in soft curls against his neck. His temple is pressed to the window, eyes closed and a faint smile on his lips. His hand lay palm up on the divider between their seats, fingers curled open. Andrew glances at the open hand but otherwise ignores it in favour of gripping the wheel and gunning the engine. The sleek car jumps ahead, as fast and smooth in its acceleration as it was seven years ago. 

Seven years. Seven years is a long time. Seven years of exy. Seven years of being accepted. Seven years of “this is nothing.” Seven years of waking up with someone. Seven years and 100%, 105%, 124%. Seven years of cats and apartments and long drives when Neil was in Palmetto or Colorado or anywhere that wasn’t with Andrew. Seven years of keys and friendship and kinship and love.

Seven years of love.

He keeps driving.

It’s nearly nine when Neil lifts his head. “Hungry?” He asks, voice soft and husky from lack of use. Andrew shakes his head, but palms his phone. Neil watched curiously as he pulls up Google Maps, then taps out a quick text before sliding his gaze across to the passenger’s seat.

“I told you to stop looking at me like that,” he snaps.

Of course, Neil’s tiny smile grows. “You have to remind me. You know I’m stupid.”

Andrew scoffs, but neither speaks when he slaps his hand into Neil’s.

Another hour passes. 

Neil’s stomach growls. “Can we get breakfast?” He asks, eyeing the highway signs for restaurant suggestions.

“Soon,” Andrew says. “I wanna make a stop.”

Neil raises a brow, waiting for an explanation. None is forthcoming, so he leans against the window again. 

Andrew’s phone chimes. Then it chimes again and again and again. Neil lifts his head again, but Andrew is ignoring it. When it chimes again, Neil pulls his hand free. “What’s up?” he asks.

“Nothing,” Andrew replies. “Almost there.”

Andrew veers the car off the highway, and Neil realizes that they are nearly home. Familiar buildings pass by as Andrew speeds down the streets, going just slow enough to avoid suspicion.

They stop before long, outside of an impressively large building. Andrew turns off the Maserati and climbs out. Neil is slow to follow. “What's going on?” he repeats. 

Andrew circles the car and lightly presses Neil against the passenger door. “Yes or no?” he asks. 

Neil makes an impatient noise. “Andrew. You don’t have to ask to kiss me anymore. You know it’s always a yes.”

Andrew’s mouth quirks. “Always?” At Neil’s confused nod, Andrew presses a brief kiss to his mouth, then turns away. “Follow me.”

Neil trails behind the blond as they enter the building. Andrew seems to know where he is going, but refuses to say anything. They arrive at a room, and Andrew knocks lightly. Bidden to enter, he pushes through the door. 

It’s a courtroom. A small one, with a judge sitting casually behind a low bench, a young woman sitting beside him, and another young woman standing with her back to the entering men. The standing woman turns.

“Robin?” Neil’s face is a mask of confusion. 

She shrugs. “Beats me - Andrew texted earlier and demanded my presence.”

The judge stands and Andrew comes forward to greet him. They don’t shake hands, but it’s as warm a greeting as Neil has ever seen from Andrew. “What is going on? Andrew?”

The judge chuckles. “Thought you might clue him in at some point,” he jokes to Andrew, “seeing as you’ll need his consent.”

Neil doesn't like judges. “He has my consent,” he snaps lightly. 

“For this?” Andrew asks softly, snatching a paper off the judge’s bench.

Neil takes it, reads the first line, stops, reads it again. Then he looks at the bottom where Andrew’s name is typed precisely below a blank space. Next to it, a large blank is captioned with his own name.

Back at the top of the page, the words LICENSE FOR MARRIAGE burn themselves into his mind.

“Andrew.”

“Yes or no, Neil?”

Neil can’t get his voice to work. His mouth opens, but nothing comes out. He’s staring, and vaguely he wonders why Andrew isn’t telling him off.

“Neil.” Andrew's voice is sharp.

“I’m not having a panic attack. I’m just. Surprised.” He reads the page one more time, reassuring himself that it’s not a hallucination. “Andrew… Is this really what you want?”

Andrew doesn’t scoff, but he does snatch the license out of Neil’s loose grasp. “Don't ask stupid questions.” He lays the paper on the desk and snaps his fingers for a pen. The judge, still watching with interest, slides a pen into his hand. Andrew scrawls his signature across his blank, then straightened, offering the pen to Neil. “Yes or no?”

Neil takes the pen in numb fingers and closes the space between them, his empty hand lifting to slide through Andrew’s hair. “Yes,” he murmurs, a whisper away from Andrew’s mouth, before closing the gap.

Andrew doesn't let the kiss last long before giving the redhead a little shove.

Robin chuckles from her stance behind the couple. “You’re supposed to sign first, then kiss,” she teases.

Neil flushes bright, a color that clashes with his auburn hair, but he turns and signs the license with the same precision he always gives to his name. The pen clatters to the desktop, and  
he steps back, eyes on Andrew.

“Staring,” Andrew intones as Robin comes forward to sign the witness line.

The judge picks up the license and reviews it. Everything being in order, he adds his own signature in the appropriate space, and stamps the document. 

Neil’s eyes haven't left Andrew’s face. “You said this was nothing,” he says in Russian. “You never said…”

Andrew wraps his hand around the back of Neil’s neck. His pulse is racing, but his gaze is steady. Behind then, the judge and Robin share a small chuckle. Neil barely hears them. Andrew squeezes lightly. “This isn’t nothing. It. It’s never been nothing.” He kisses Neil then, fast and hard, and pulls back before Neil can lean on him.

Robin looks between Andrew, smugly satisfied, and Neil, half in shock, and grins. “So. Breakfast?”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading. please let me know what you think. also, i take prompts at @exyandgaysoliloquys on tumblr (I don't know how to make links)


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